


Good Night

by enemyfrigate



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bedroom Sex, Domestic, M/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemyfrigate/pseuds/enemyfrigate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think I'm tired tonight," Jack said, as he straightened to throw the trousers toward the chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Night

Jack mutely held his wrist out to Ianto, who left off undoing his tie to work the cufflink free of Jack's shirtsleeve. Jack held his other wrist out and Ianto wrestled that link open as well. At least this time they were only bent, not melted shut.

Ianto often had to scrap the tiny Spitfires, but luckily he could often repair the shirts. Jack's clothing budget was quite a bit higher than anyone else on the team suspected. His things had a habit of getting scorched, ripped, irretrievably bloodied, and plain disappeared.

Jack draped his unharmed shirt on the back of his desk chair and worked his belt open.

Ianto watched lazily as Jack shoved the trousers down, revealing boxers and pale thighs.

"I think I'm tired tonight," Jack said, as he straightened to throw the trousers toward the chair.

"It's been a few days since you even napped," said Ianto. He took more care with his own clothing. He didn't have the garment budget Jack had. He didn't usually need it, after all, not being an immortal who had obviously liked to throw himself into danger even before he became unkillable.

Ianto decided his jacket and trousers merely needed dry-cleaning, but the shirt was doomed. He'd lost a whole long swatch of it off the front, right near the buttons.

With slow care, Ianto folded the salvageable clothing and set it on Jack's chair. He'd take that lot out first thing to the cleaners.

"Did you settle Myfanwy?" Ianto asked.

"Hell. I forgot. I'll go now," Jack said. He stretched, and the tee-shirt he wore failed to ride up in an enticing manner. Ianto felt cheated.

There were a few end of day things to take care of on his own duty roster. Ianto'd planned to just leave them, but he might as well take care of it while Jack finished up his own chores.

On his way past Tosh's workstation, he stooped to make certain that the power connection was firmly in place, then turned to Gwen's desk to set his daily check of alien and Torchwood related rumors on the Internet. From there, he scooped a rubber band gun from autopsy to put back in the armory, did a quick clear out of the fridge to prevent Jack eating whatever ancient foodstuff came to hand for breakfast, and made a quick shopping list. He'd stop for supplies on the cleaner run tomorrow.

"All taken care of," Jack said, coming into the kitchen.

"And you're not missing any pieces," Ianto said. "Well done, you."

"Bed," Jack said. "Now?"

Ianto nodded and let himself be steered by a gentle grip on his shoulder.

Jack went down the ladder first, tugged off shirt and boxers, and waited for Ianto, looking at his arse as he descended. Jack didn't like to waste opportunities for appreciation, even at a distance, or a weird angle, though Ianto himself preferred having Jack's arse under his hands or around his cock to watching it from beneath.

Ianto stepped off the ladder, turned to Jack, and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Oof," Jack said.

"Bet you're glad I insisted on the new bed now," Ianto said, taking off the rest of his own clothing. He climbed on top of Jack and proceeded to arrange him to his satisfaction: spread eagled and relaxed, an all-access pass to Jack Harkness.

Ianto lowered his head and rubbed his cheek against Jack's cock. He turned his face and breathed on the delicate skin of the shaft, let out the very faintest push of air over the head. Jack sucked in air, and Ianto smiled. This wouldn't take long.

Ianto took Jack's cock into his mouth with deliberate speed. Jack knew to stay still under Ianto's mouth, but his hands clenched and his feet flexed with desire to move his hips.

It had been a long day, and though Ianto loved to torment Jack as much as Jack loved to be tormented, he simply hadn't the energy to draw this out. He set to pleasuring Jack with deliberate care, the soft, living weight of the cock in his mouth and throat sending thrums of desire through his own body, as he gave Jack the release he needed. Jack let Ianto set the pace, accepted what was offered, gasped and murmured, noise rather than words, until he could not control his hips. Ianto circled the head of Jack's cock with his tongue, and Jack went off. Ianto rode out the orgasm and licked Jack clean. The rapidity of Jack's climax was a testament to the man's fatigue, Ianto thought, and let Jack's cock slip from his lips.

Ianto sat back onto his knees and surveyed the heavy-lidded, beautifully flushed man in front of him.

"On your side, you," Ianto said. He'd hate to have to get Jack in position himself; he was heavy.

Jack stretched and rolled half over. Ianto reached lube from the bedside table and slicked himself. Then he slid onto the bed behind him, ran a hand down the back of Jack's thigh and eased the leg into position. With an arm around Jack's chest, he snugged his lover back against him and pushed his hard cock between Jack's muscled thighs. Jack shifted a millimeter, knowing to the smallest span how much pressure he liked, and Ianto moved, sleepy but aroused, in the welcoming squeeze of Jack's limbs. The friction of the strong muscles and soft skin over his sensitive cock was delicious, Ianto thought, there was no other word for it.

"You feel so good," Jack murmured, voice drowsy.

"Mmmm. You too," Ianto said. He thrust harder, with a surprising energy, the need urgent on him.

Instinct and pleasure took him over, his hips moving without thought, his mouth open and gasping against Jack's shoulder, his cock straining for unreachable depths. Jack's thighs flexed, a mite, and Ianto groaned, bit at Jack's shoulder, and came. He panted against Jack's skin, muscles fallen limp, brain fuzzy.

Eyes closed, Ianto froused a little, fumbled a corner of bed sheet up and swiped at the come decorating Jack's leg, then eased his cock from between Jack's thighs and settled down boneless against his lover.

"Good night," Jack muttered.

"Good night, Jack," Ianto said, eyes falling closed.

And they slept.


End file.
